


In Trade

by inkandchocolate



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-20
Updated: 2010-05-20
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:47:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkandchocolate/pseuds/inkandchocolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lindsey comes back to the Hyperion. Angel's been waiting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Trade

**Author's Note:**

> IMPROV #21: Happy Ending (loosely translated - it made ME happy)  
> NOTES: For Katie, who wanted happy slashy smut. Check. Happy, slashy smut with zero plot and a corny as hell ending. Enjoy, Katie. To the rest of you, well...sorry.

Angel waits in the lobby, in the dark, staring at the door with his fingers steepled in front of him. He glances at the clock now and then but other than that he is still. Silent. Waiting.

His two hour vigil is rewarded with the booming sound of the lobby door being thrown open and rebounding into the wall. He made a mental bet on broken glass but it looks like that's not happening. What he has gotten right, however, is that Lindsey's temper will always get the better of him, and he'll be right back here as soon as he's been pulled over.

It is reassuring to see that he hasn't lost his touch in reading humans.

"Get down here, you son of a bitch." Lindsey's voice, loud and full of rounded vowels echoes in the lobby. Angel smells the anger rolling off the man in waves. Anger, frustration, and the slightest hint of arousal under all that tension.

Yes, he still has it.

"There a problem, Lindsey?" he asks quietly, not bothering to hide his smile when Lindsey startles at the sound of his voice. Watches as Lindsey's gaze darts across the room until his vision adjusts and he can see Angel. Sitting there.

'You're goddamn right there's a problem. My truck. Impounded. And for some reason the cops just don't seem to want to be very cooperative with me. Any ideas on that?" Lindsey stands with his hands on his hips and stares. Angle lets himself slide down in the chair, hips forward, head back.

"I tried to warn you about driving too fast. You really should work on that problem you have with taking suggestions under advisement." Angel tilts his head to the left, admires the tight fit of the worn blue jeans, the way they pull snug across Lindsey's thighs, across his hips. The way the button fly seems to extend out in what is a very promising manner. He's as blatant with his examination of Lindsey's body as he cares to be. No one here to make any comment other than the man he's been waiting for.

"Oh, I should work on my problem. I see. Maybe you should work on this tendency you have to piss me off." Lindsey licks his lips, unconscious gesture as Angel stares at him, way, way below eye level. The smile on Angel's face is less sarcastic and more... intrigued. He watches Lindsey shrug his shoulders in his leather jacket, wanting to take it off before he starts perspiring but refusing to make the gesture.

Angel stands. "You're right. Let's work on that one." He walks over to Lindsey, slow measured steps that make no sound on the marble floor. Stops right at the outer limits of what could be defined intrusive closeness and waits.

Lindsey glances down, sees bare feet below the hem of black pants. Looks up and sees the gleam of bare chest where Angel's shirt hangs open, buttons undone. "Yeah? Work on it how?"

Definite grin on Angel's face now. "I thought you'd never ask."

White hands starkly contrasting against the black leather of Lindsey's coat as Angel tugs the sleeves down, leaves it hanging there halfway down his arms. Makes the final step, brings himself right up against Lindsey's body, scent of desire stronger than anything else now. Presses his hips against the other man's, lets him feel the hard length there before bending his head and covering full, warm, human lips with his own cool mouth. Smiles again against Lindsey's mouth when he hears that sharp intake of breath, waits for the step back, the shove against him that doesn't come. Slips his tongue between those lips that offer no resistance and tastes Lindsey for the first time.

Coffee, peppermint, faint hint of scotch on the back of his tongue; all that in one kiss and there's so much more to be discovered. Angel sucks Lindsey's lower lip into his mouth, bites down just enough to elicit a moan from him and runs his tongue along the flesh he holds captive. His hands find the jacket again, push it down so that it drops off and to the ground, faintest whisper of leather scent wafting up to him. He adds that smell to his collections of Lindsey tactiles stored in his brain, along with the taste of his mouth and the color of his blood. The way his neck bruises far too easily. The aroma of his anger, pain and need.

Angel realizes that there is warmth on his back; Lindsey's hands slide under Angel's open shirt and work their way up towards his shoulders. He feels those clever fingers pick up the faintest lines of his tattoo, echo them as they trace a rough silhouette. He moves his own hands to Lindsey's tousled hair, pull his head back until those blue eyes open and meet his own. Nothing to say, really. Just making sure there's acknowledgement on Lindsey's part of who he's with, what he's admitting to himself and to Angel.

"Don't say anything." Lindsey's voice is rough. "If you say something stupid, I'll be out the door and this won't happen."

"Shut up, Lindsey." Angel tightens his grip, bears them both to the floor, finds Lindsey's mouth again before the lawyer mode of his brain can kick in and begin arguing about location or position or something else to ruin what needs to happen right now. His hand slips between their bodies, fingers tugging at the buttons of jeans that pop easily out of frayed buttonholes, is somehow not the least bit surprised to find bare skin right beneath his hand when he reaches in and grasps Lindsey's hard cock. Another groan against his lips and Angel finds himself rolling his hips almost without thinking. Sounds of Lindsey's need driving his own arousal higher as he finds a rhythm and friction, bump of a hipbone just adding pressure where he needs it most.

Almost enough as he holds Lindsey in a loose fist and lets him fuck himself up into it, seeking tightness that Angel refuses to give him yet. Almost, but not quite. His other hand reaches for Lindsey's, drags it down as he raises himself up on his knees and places that warm, well manicured grip right where he needs it most. Lindsey's hand stays there, still for a maddening second as Angel feels him panting beneath him, and then there's an exquisite slide along the whole length of his dick, up to the head and down to the base. He breathes out his own exclamation, and that earns him a wicked grin from Lindsey, who does it once more before snaking his hand inside of the waistband of Angel's pants and grasping him skin to skin.

Angel shudders as Lindsey's thumb brushes across the head of his cock, tightens his grip finally around Lindsey, thrusts into the heat of Lindsey's palm. There's a confused moment when he can't get the rhythm down, can't match himself to Lindsey's strokes. But then it clicks and they're both moving, hips and hands, and Angel drops his face to Lindsey's neck. Is not surprised to feel Lindsey turn his face away, bare his neck, wonders for a moment what it would be like to just drop the pretense, lose himself in the demon and sink his fangs into all that soft, pale skin. To have the taste of him for real, the essence of him, and the thought of filling his mouth with Lindsey's blood is enough to make him hit the wall. Angel drives himself into Lindsey's hand, collapses on him and buries his face in all the human warmth of him. Licks and sucks on his neck to bring the blood close to the surface and feels Lindsey spasm, hears him cry out when he comes. Makes himself stop short of losing his mask but cannot stop licking the unbroken surface of Lindsey's skin where it's red and bruising and the blood is so very close. Listens to the rapid heartbeat thud against his chest and smells no fear at all on the other man.

Lindsey rolls his head and Angel look up to see him licking his swollen lips. Lindsey's eyes are dark and heavy-lidded. His heart rate is slowing to normal and he seems uninspired to move; there's no muscle tension in his body. He feels his chest expand as Lindsey takes a deep breath and then lets it out slowly. He looks at Angel.

"So how many rooms are there in this place anyway?"

Angel considers a minute. "Eighty two. Give or take a few minor unplanned redecorations."

"Think I might need a place to stay tonight. With my truck in the impound lot and all." No sign of a smile on his face or in his tone of voice. Still no tension, either. He's completely at ease where he lays, Angel can feel the pliant body not protesting when he lets his weight down again.

He considers a moment. Says, "Yeah, OK. I'll even give you a discounted rate."

"Discount? I think it should be a comp. You're the one who got my truck taken in to begin with."

"I'm not the one who was driving too fast, ignoring friendly advice, in a vehicle that's got questionable inspection tags on it at best."

Lindsey does grin then. "Yeah, alright. You give me the discount and we'll take it out in trade."

Angel looks down at the smile, feels his cock twitch again, still in Lindsey's hand. Sighs and says, "Alright as long as you don't try and sing."

"Yeah and that goes double for you. You know, I heard all about your singing. Word gets around. I think that's when I lost all respect for you. I mean, how desperate can you get, Angel.... Manilow? That's weak."

"Shut up, Lindsey."

~end


End file.
